


Blemish

by basketcasewrites



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Flashbacks, Memories, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Past Violence, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basketcasewrites/pseuds/basketcasewrites
Summary: 'Where's that from?'  Venom asks, voice quiet and in Eddie's ear. A finger of ink touches to a half-moon of raised skin that curves and uncurves with the movements of his hand. 'When did you get that one?'"Sixteen. Chillies.” A dry laugh. “All the worst stories happen at the back of a Chillies."





	Blemish

**Author's Note:**

> a secret santa gift for a friend from the fanfic server !!
> 
> hope you enjoy ♡
> 
> (ps. lmk if i should tag anything else)

There is no such thing as love without pain. Without brutality. Without the fibers of his being tearing apart, shattering, weeping, forcing themselves into an abstract Eddie-shaped void.   
  
There is no such thing as love without pain, he has managed to convince himself. And the scabbed over scraped raw mutilage that are his knuckles tell the world a better story than Eddie ever could.   
  
**Where's that from?** Venom asks, voice quiet and in Eddie's ear. A finger of ink touches to a half-moon of raised skin that curves and uncurves with the movements of his hand.  **When did you get that one?**   
  
"Sixteen. Chillies.” A dry laugh. “All the worst stories happen at the back of a Chillies."   
  
He tells it as he remembers it; as if it happened both yesterday and a lifetime ago.    
  
The dimly lit alleyway, narrow and overlooking a parking lot that stretched into empty infinity, is seared into the bare bones of his mind.

A structure in crumbling glory. Under the weight of the aging building, under the weight of the mould finding home in its cracked surface, it threatened to collapse.

“I was a dumbass,” Eddie says, words a breathy whisper.

For the length of a long pause he let's his words hang with his breaths.

Itching to move, his fingers light upon the little scar and Eddie wonders why, after all these years, it hasn't faded into his skin.

“When I was a kid,” he says, his voice lowered. “There was all this noise. It was easy to lose myself… Too easy.”

Memories: bitter flashes.

An arm around Eddie's neck. Holding him in place until each breath was harder than the next, until stars swam in his eyes and the  _ Ave Maria _ he never wanted to learn played over in his head.

Hard knuckles meeting the sides of faces, catching onto sharp jaws, until they were more bruises than boys by the time they split and ran in opposite directions.

**You're still a dumbass.** They bump the round of their head to Eddie's cheek.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees on the end of a laugh, absently tugging at Venom's arm as his gaze wanders out the window and back. “We're dumbasses together.”

And he wishes he could let himself love, completely and without boundary.

He wishes that he didn't see pain as a certainty. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**And that one?**

They are curled together in the living room. The curtains are not drawn and, if Eddie cocks his head to listen, he imagines he can hear the tinkling sound of children laughing.

“You know everything I know, don't you?” Eddie says, eyeing the perfect set of circles stamped into his forearm. “So, why all the questions?”

**We like you to tell us. We prefer it.**

He breathes out a laugh. A quiet, gorgeous laugh that rattles in his chest like the wind outside.

“I messed with some  _ bad _ guys.”

**Yeah?**

“Yeah.” Another laugh, choked.

His head drops back, his eyes slip shut and he is back there again— the seat of the hard wooden chair and its arms digging deep into his sides, the single light bulb hanging from the barren ceiling’s center, the cracked tiles under his bare feet.

Sees and feels it so clearly that the finger of Venom's ink on his face is a crooked stream of blood, seeping back into his skin and stinging his tongue with acrid metallic.

That his inhale may as well choke him.

“People don't take too kindly to me writing about how awful they are, V.” A shake of his head. “ _Surprisingly_.”

**Does it hurt?** Venom asks. Innocently, seething anger pushed aside.

Eddie shakes his head.  _ No.  _ “Not anymore, darling. Not since I've had you, ” he says.

And Venom reaches out. Their limbs like tree branches, like delicate lightning strikes, travel the length of Eddie's arms. 

Slowly envelop him. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**And these** ? Venom asks, voice a quiet rasp.

The darkness settles around them. A blanket of security and safety, disrupted only by the light falling in through the partly drawn curtain.

They trail tendrils of themself up Eddie's chest, down the stretch of his torso. Revel in the sigh that falls when they travel over the lines criss-crossing his pale skin, whitish-pink with age.

Eddie chuckles. Low and without humour, without anything. “I don't remember,” he says.

His swallow is loud in the quiet. His sharp intake of breath as Venom's tongue follows the line of his throat, moves with the constricting muscles, is louder.

“Some battle,” he says with a shake of his head. “Some fight. I don't remember.”

Hands scraped raw run up his sides, make to cover the mutilation that he is. 

And if the scars on his body could tell the story of Eddie Brock, they would tell an epic of his backbreaking pain, of his listless mind, of his rage and his blinding love; they would utter the words he could never bring himself to even whisper.

**You don't have to do that.** Venom fingers at Eddie's hands, coils in and out of the spaces between his fingers, splayed across his front.  **You don't have to hide yourself from me, Eddie.**

“I'm not.”

**I know your struggle. I have seen it. I have lived it. Eddie, I have lived my own.** They pause. For a moment, they are stagnant where they linger over Eddie's stretched out body.  **You never have to hide a part of yourself from me.**

Another too loud swallow. Another flurry of ceaseless thoughts, of pointless worry.

There is no such thing as love without pain. Love without brutality.

He taught that to himself, when burning knuckles were how he fell into the touch of skin and stinging bottom lips were what he got for sneaking kisses and his every love story ended with someone walking away.

The moon drops behind a cloud, sinks the room into empty obsidian lit only by the whites of Venom's eyes.

Eddie reaches for Venom and makes to just gently cup their jaw. The tips of his fingers sink in, and Venom huffs something like a giggle when Eddie wiggles them without thinking.

Simply to hear that sound one more time, Eddie wiggles his fingers again. “You like that?” he asks, a muted smile in his voice.

A moment of thought passes.  **Maybe,** Venom answers, reluctant.  

They are an ever-moving mass settled above him. Shifting, slithering; never still, never constant.

Their ink travels along the length of Eddie. Slip around the curves of his biceps, around the slight round of his stomach, over the scars upon scars that litter his body.

Soothing as it is sensual, Eddie does not fight his small pleasured sigh from escaping. Eyes narrowed, mouth open, Venom takes the moment to dip the tip of their tongue into Eddie's mouth. Just long enough for him to taste.

**Never,** Venom repeats.  **Never hide yourself from me. You don't have to.**

And, when Eddie sighs a soft and almost joking “I should be saying that to you,” Venom kisses a soft  **I love you** into his skin.

He thinks about love without pain.

Love without brutality.

Love without losing everything about himself. And he thinks it almost impossible.

**I love you. Eddie.**

For now, at least in this brittle and perfect moment, Eddie is complete. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see how I procrastinate, shoot me some asks or just hang out, you can find me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/dykemilesmorales)


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